Shadowrun - Revolution
by VictorNiss
Summary: Nákie, a escaped asset has set out to work freelance doing the same thing the corp trained her for. You know the saying about old habits, eh? But after a weird job and a pseudo-nuclear explosion, the corps get their panties in a bundle, now this Korean Killer is looking for safe haven in a terrorist group run by a powerful and ballin' Wiz. It's gonna be a wild ride, Omae.
1. Episode 1 - Part A

_**INTRO AND DISCLAIMER HERE**_

My name is **_VictorNiss_**, and the following writings are all my own work, with original characters based off of the Shadowrun verse. This work of fiction is my own and the world it is based off of belongs to Catalyst Game labs and the original writers of Shadowrun. I will say now that the world has been tailored and some people may not find the world to be %100 cannon to the Shadowrun books. To this I say: in the name of outrageous **epicness**, let it be changed until it is more awesome.

_**BACK STORY AND RELEVANT INFORMATION**_

These writings started as overkill scripts, or guild lines, for a comic I'm working on with a partner, but in between busy schedules and a need to hone drawing skills, we may not have anything produced for a very long time. I appreciate Critique and please know before reading that I am not actually a writer! I don't have very good form, and don't properly use whatever elements of writing. You_ real_ writers here will scoff and me and what not, with all your writing rules and finesse.. This is a learning experience. **I'm actually a professional lazy ass bum**, and I play **battlefield 3** and sit all day. Surprisingly I'm not very fat, however. I'm working on that too.

_**ON TO THE SHOW!**_

_**Episode #1 part A**__** - Nothing unusual here... **_

Hong Kong's evening skyline glowed and illuminated the Lion park mountains behind the Sham Shui Po district. Rotor crafts buzzed between cookie stamp high-rise buildings, while jets streaked across the dark blue night sky. Cars lined the elevated Tsing Sha highway that jetted out into the ocean towards the Tsing Yi island. The elevated parking lot overlooked countless ships of all sizes, rubbing against each other and bobbing in the sea, either waiting for their turn at the port, or waiting for their quarantine to life. The city was never asleep, and rush hour was a meaningless word. What a foreigner would call rush hour lasted 18 hours a day in the free enterprise sovereignty A couple hundred tired workers leaving from thrid shift fill both sides of the freeway. A Lightrail train packed past it's manufacturer regulated capacity silently zips by in between the median barriers, and on a rail above the trains electricity cables, a Knight Errant security drone follows suit. But nobody noticed the lone figure standing on the edge of the concrete wall, looking out to the harbor. Green, blue, yellow, and red cargo containers fill the 1 by 3 mile space of harbor No single block of the containers stacked less then three high. Scarce permanent structures housing staff or vehicles dot the vista, seemingly at random.

The figure was distinctly female, and strategically in between the illumination of the lamp posts. She's clothed in a blue form fitting half-body suit, with obvious metal colored cybernetic limbs, and a thick military plexiglass visor consuming most of her face. Her thick, black hair pulled into a ponytail, with a duo of datajacks on the back of her neck, with two utility ports under those. She looks off the highway, and takes a breath. The warm night is relieved by a cool ocean breeze. The monsoon season always is rainy and hot, so this less humid wind front breathes easy and invigorates the body. The cyborg women raises her arms to embrace the wind, as bus passes by in the slow moving but more vacant carpool lane. A moment and it passes. She's gone.

Nakie hit the dirt hard in a crouch, sounding like a pallet of plaststeel ingots rather then a human female. Her cybernetic enhancements also enhance her weight by a great deal. She stood up, subtropic foliage covering her landing from the view of the security sensor on the fence of the harbor pier, as well as the traffic of a industrial road on the other side of the freeway's support column. A moment passes and a click sounds from her headpiece. Her limbs, visor, and body suit all flash various colors of the spectrum as they refract light, quickly becoming invisible at a glance. The most revealing aspect of this cloak is the fact that her hair, cheeks, mouth, and a few pieces of her limbs are not effected by the pseudo-invisibility. She takes a few steps toward the fence.

She taps the side of her headpiece and her augmented vision shuts down. Do not enter icons around the gate disappear, followed by the name and address of the shipyard, and even the street name behind her. Email, calendar, texts, and then her entire HUD shuts down. A mental trigger and a new overlay comes online. Her vitals, cyber limb stats, pistol stats, audio monitor, and TACnet stats appear in her peripheral vision. Electronic signature readings light up electric lines secured on the concrete highway support columns, as well as the harbor cameras and perimeter sensors. Finally, a line of sight indicator comes online, indicating that she is anonymous.

"Yumi, I've switched to my MCT tactical and my personal comm is off, you hear me?" Nakie asks in her Chinese.

"Zao shang hao!" an excited Chinese girl answers on the other end.

"Xie Xie" Nakie responds in courtesy, "Now can you get those sensors for me, Yumi?"

"Already done," Yumi replies without hesitation, "you're free to enter the pier!"

"Already? I figured you would sit and play CityScape 4 until you heard from me!" Nakie retorted as she charged the 10 foot tall fence.

"chòu biǎozi!" cursing at the sly remark, "I stopped playing that a while ago! Mech conquest 2 all the way!"

Nakie's legs made an audible mechanical noise as she jumped almost to the top of the barbed wire fence. She grabbed onto the sensors' mounting pole and contorted her body, making a stationary pole vaulting action, and flung herself over the fence.

"Well let's get this over with so you can go back to playing those games." Nakie finished as she checked a corner around a maintenance building and proceeded into the container yard.

"So ka!" Yumi agreed over their commlink.

"12-9, you power on yet?" Nakie asked into her commlink.

In the dark interior of a cargo container, dimly lit by a red light, the silhouette of a large anthropod suit lifts it's body, and a sensor around it's head move around silently.

"Online. Scanning area now, Nakie." The inhuman voice sounds over the channel, sounding like what can only be described as a Reaper from the 2010's classic video game, Mass Effect.

"Oh, just a heads up, that ship will be departing in 15 minutes!" Yumi advised

"This will only take 5..." Nakie assured her decker.

"I hope so, Yamatetsu Naval labs keep their supply lines on lock down. The sooner your off that ship the better: even if it's onto private property. The ship guards are more likely to shoot then the lab guards."

Nakie moved past another block of containers, and darts between aisles after a 3 ton forklift quadruped passes.

"This unit agrees with Yumi's concern for Nakie. Heavily armed foot mobiles detected near targeted vessel." The mech continues.

Nakie cautiously approached an opening where she sees her first two guards: black pants with white shirt and the tell-tale red and blue trim. Lonestar. Getting a better view, she spied the two playing a AR game on the hood of a beat down company truck under a light post that flickers slightly. Cargo containers make the scene look like some post-apocalypse fortress, and Nakie takes a moment to think of Yumi's joy if this were one of her video games.

"Heavily armed guards, huh?" Nakie's rare sarcasm savored by Yumi and the Mech alike, "Well where are these guys, because there is no threat here."

"Threat accessing..." the omnipotent machine whispers comforting words to her.

A cluster of red blips appear on Nakies visual display, tagging the guards of interest across the pier on the other side of a block of containers. While looking at one of the blips Nakie reads the info passed on from 12-9's responsive interface and smartlink software: Male, heavy armor, augmented, smartlinked, automatic weapons, normal heart rate, Evo-tech exclusive security.

"The ship is over there, then. Thank you, love." Nakie coos at the Mech.

Nakie looks above the cargo containers in front of her, spotting a crane in action grabbing containers for the ship's hold.

"And that is your crane!" Yumi proclaimed.

Several armored guards clad in black casually walked around the port side of a mid-size freighter ship, while others are seen on the deck. The crane above them hums away, automatically loading the ship with it's invoice of supplies. The crane drops a container on a scale at a customs station with two men working it. One man scans the container with a handheld electronic and thermal signature device, while another sits in a small kiosk, toying with a computer terminal. After a moment, the crane carries the container off the customs depot and onto the waiting ship. A forklift quadruped drone walks by and continues off to it's duties. No one able to notice the cloaked Nakie jumping off the back of the unit and running to the crane ladder.

A top the busy crane, the deniable asset cracks open the crane's control panel.

"I thought you said 5 minutes, nv peng yu!" Yumi scolded her counterpart in good humor.

"One second!" Nakie insists while she inserted a cord from the machines inner workings into a datajack on the back of her neck. "done!"

There was moment of silence on the channel while Yumi worked through Nakie's rig, and suddenly the crane stopped just before grabbing a container and resets, turning almost 180 degrees to pick up a lone, unmarked container sitting alone on top of the block of stacked shipping crates. The customs man with the scanner watched with no amount of excitement as the container came down to him. The man in the booth plugged numbers away on the terminal, while he held up his scanner. To his surprise however, the container appeared to be swimming in some sort of electric signature, while switching to thermals, the container had a black hole with no reading what-so-ever. Confused for a moment, the harbor employee signaled to the man in the kiosk.

"Supervisor! That crate has irregular readings! Stop the crane!" he cried.

The man in the kiosk gave a thumbs up and stepped out of the booth. They viewed the readings of the sensor, and the supervisor walked up to the lock on the crates door. In that very instant, the two were startled as green lights lit around them and the container began to ascend signaling the container's customs approval. but without the supervisor in his booth to approve it. The men watched the crate raise off the scale and gracefully float towards the ship.

"Supervisor! Call the ship captain! We must be shown the crate!" the diligent worker yelled, almost at the crate, itself.

"Fay-fay duh Pee-yen! I'm not asking those guys to show me anything!" the worker snapped back and signaled at the armed guards, "I've got a wife and family to go home to!" he commented while returning to his post in the customs booth.

"Good job Yumi!" Nakie commented.

"This unit approves of your talents, Yumi." 12-9's cold approval adds in.

Nakie jogs to the end of the crane and rappels quietly onto the boat from the thick lift cable of the crane. She took a seat on top of the container they just smuggled on the ship. The container that housed her beloved Mech. The cyborg girl looked off to the perfectly white full moon over the massive floating shipyard on the ocean horizon. Thick black clouds boarder the moon and hang over the shipyard.

That cool wind is blowing in a storm, Nakie thought, better get this over quickly.

_**~On to part 2 or get dumped, Breeder!**_


	2. Episode 1 - Part B

_**Episode #1 part B**__** - The Hive at night**_

Over an hour later, and the ship reached it's destination. The wind picked up heavily, and the late night crew was scarce. A waning alarm buzzed, signaling the ships docking procedure as the arms of the receiving dock reached out and secured the small barge, pulling it right up to the pier as it lowered it's port side walls into makeshift ramps. The receiving dock was a small square area, connected to the rest of the flotilla by only the opposite side. Two cranes were positioned on either corner of the area in front of the ship. A stack of cargo containers were stacked on the left side of the dock, with a warehouse in the center and a small security and drone control office to the right. Forklift drones shot out of the warehouse garage door and rolled up onto the ship, as the cranes sprang to life simultaneously and began snatching cargo containers to be added to the stockpile.

With zeal the security team and ship hands left the ship in a 3 wide column off the boarding port ramp. Power walking off the dock and into the security office, all personnel had disappeared in a few moments, leaving only scarce shadows in the windows of the office.

A cloud broke and it started to sprinkle.

Nakie stood on top of the container with her mech inside, looking the area over. She needed to find the a server room. Nakie thought for a long moment about the safest way across the dock and onto the warehouse roof. The warehouse was the only connecting building to the rest of the facility, other then the sub-levels, which were more then likely accessible from the security office to the right of the dock. A series of shadows moved again through the office windows. The Monday Night Combat program was flickering on the trid. Going in that inhabited area was too risky.

Jumping down off the container, Nakie ran alongside one of the forklift drones, being mindful to keep the pallet between herself and the cameras. Once the drone deposited the payload onto the hydraulic lift on the warehouse, Nakie hopped onto the pallet. As the drone peeled out, the lift began bringing the load up the dock and into the warehouse door. While the pallet was entering the building, Nakie's legs sounded again as her pistons went off, shooting her up a whole story and allowing her to grasp the ledge of a vent on the building side. She climbed the rest of the building using window ledges and groves on the building's frame. Upon reaching the roof, Nakie viewed the rest of the compound before her. It wasn't very impressive from this view. The entire compound was about the same level. Various building wings had higher ceilings or equipment on top, but the landscape up there was nothing too drastic. Near the center of the complex a radio dome's silvery surface gave away the building's satellite uplink, meaning a server node was nearby.

"Yumi, be ready." Nakie advised, "I think I've spotted the area I need to be in."

"Right!" Yumi's excitement shining though the comm.

With a running jump, and a short climb, Nakie was on a more elevated section. Her HUD alerted her as a life sign was detected within line of sight. A large ventilation unit stood before Nakie, with a guard on the other side.

What is this idiot doing up here during a monsoon? she thought.

With a silent jump, she pulled herself up the vent and peered down at the man. A private cop for Evo. He was waring basic officer duds, silver BDU shit, black slacks, some gear, and a armband with his Security rank and Social score in his enclave. Evo always a little too caring about their employee's social life. With a click her arm split open and a sword folded out a secured under her forearm, with a baton styled handle for her to grip.

"Nakie!" Yumi sounded up over the TacNet.

"He is a liability, Yumi."

"So throw a rock or something so he goes away!"

"GridSec detected in this area," CS12-9 chimes in, "there is a high probability that the guards are all equipped with Responsive Interface software. If one target's heart rate is affected exponentially..."

"Alarms could go off, Nakie! He does not need to die tonight." Yumi finishes.

"OK, whatever." Nakie barks, not taking to her scolding.

Nakie's blade retracts and with a sigh the backs off the vent and climbs down, sneaking around the vents and toward her objective. As Nakie reached the dome, the rain picked up. She circled around to a door with a camera above it, taking care to hug the dome and remain out of the camera's sight.

"Yumi, camera." Nakie signaled.

"Making a loop, one moment." Yumi responded.

In a moment the light on the mag-lock flashed green.

"Looks like Mr. Roof Guard is tired of this rain and swiped his badge to be let back in." Yumi playfully boasting about her decking skills.

A icon appeared on the camera signaling to Nakie that it was compromised, allowing her to enter the satellite dome. She looked around for life signatures. A large dish slowly rotated around within the dome. Expertly designed so that the unit barely clears the support trusses as it turns. Spotting a ladder hatch on the floor, Nakie ducks under the passing dish and opens the hatch and quickly descend.

"More cameras ahead, babe" Yumi advised, "I got them for you already, so no worries!"

"So Ka, Yumi!" Nakie kept her response short. She was relying on her sound filters to listen for guards while she slid down the ladder.

Hitting the ground lightly, Nakie spun around to view the room she dropped into. Within a second she accessed that there was no chance anyone could be nearby. The whole place was an eerie kind of quite. The kind of quite that you can only get in a empty facility passed midnight. The only noise was Nakie's suit dripping slightly from the light rain. The room had a concentrate floor, with an industrial boiler in the corner. A mop sink was situated on the opposite wall, and various heating and cooling pipes were hanging overhead. Taking note of her surrounds payed off, as Nakie spotted a transformer node near the ladder. A rack with hundreds of cables shot out of the node and into the wall. Opening the door silently, Nakie could see no signs of life. The room was open, with 2 cubical blocks on the left side, and a long line of server's behind a glass wall on the other side.

"Hit the paydata." Nakie commented.

The cable racks ran over the servers, with ventilation ducts branching over the whole elevated ceiling. A set of glass sliding doors made an airlock-like chamber in the middle of the room. Denouncing itself as the only legitimate entrance. Nakie approached cautiously when Yumi came over the comm in a start:

"Nakie, someone used an unknown ID at that door less then 8 minutes ago!" she exclaimed.

"Is this door still unlocked?"

"Yes, babe, but be careful! I think that someone is bombing our 'run!" Yumi continued.

A warmth came over Nakie. Her stomach tensed and her peripheral vision became bordered in red, signaling that her reflex augmentations were coming online. Her hands twitched and her shoulders twitched involuntary. Although she hated when anything interfered with her assignments, she loved to spill blood. She thought about the threat that could be in the server room, night crew, guard, or Shadow Warrior. She could never admit it to Yumi, but slicing apart an unsuspecting threat was one of the few things that could make her feel. That and Yumi's friendship. But the look of horror in their eye, the scream they make. No matter how hardened they are, no matter how well they hold up in a fight, they could never stop the inevitable death they faced when Nakie, the Korean Spartan, brought her sneak attack to fruition. Nakie turned off her vital monitor to prevent Yumi from seeing her excitement. Her chest pounded, her face flushed, and a smile on her lips.

The glass doors slid open silently, and a light turned from red to yellow, as a small fan hums. A draft flows through the chamber.

Venting dust and dead skin, no doubt, Nakie thought during the process.

A small beep sounded while the light turned green, and the second set of sliding glass doors opened. Nakie stepped out into the server room. Passed the first row, there were three other rows of servers, each at least 50 feet long, with a break in the middle. Walking cautiously through the break and looking down each isle, Nakie found her mark behind the last row all the way in the corner of the room. The figure was working on a lone terminal away from the servers. The lighting was dark, only a few lights were on. Most of the lighting came from the lights on the server cases. Brilliant blue shining out of the cases, and dancing across the floor as they slightly flicker from receiving pings from the Grid. Nakie drew in closer, and upon realizing that her head gear couldn't catch any readings from her intruder, she deduced that this figure was indeed a 'runner. As she grew dangerously near the figures' back she made out some details: male, shaggy brown hair, larger commlink on his belt (probably a tactical), sword on his side, SMG on his back, wearing a dark brown leather vest stuffed with enough armor to stop a tank shell, with a blue tank top underneath. His loose dirty white pants were strapped with 2020's era combat pouches. Obviously a Shadowrunner.

Who is this guy, Nakie thought, Brown armored leather vest? Does he think this is 2071?

"Nakie, a silent and clean take down advised. Fluid spill from target may cause situational degradation." CS12-9 added as Nakie closed in.

"I agree with 12-9!" Yumi added, "Don't kill him if you can help it, we need this operation to go cleanly!"

"Quite! I'm working!" Nakie subvocalized.

"Nakie, be careful!" Yumi insisted.

Nakie was within 3 feet of the target. He stood over the terminal on the wall, typing away. She took in the moment, thinking how she'd do it. Slice his vertebrae so he couldn't retaliate, maybe. Or should she kill him, she didn't know. Yumi was important to her, and she could make Nakie feel plenty of emotions. Comrade, friendship, frustration, love, compassion... But to have such a strong feeling right in front of her, within her grasp. Even the logic and level headedness of her combat mech advised against this, but none of them knew how much Nakie wanted this. Needed it. She wouldn't let them take this interloper's death from her. She couldn't let him live now.

She hurled herself forward, arm opening again to eject her blade, she was upon him. With her reflexes moving faster then she could think, she swiped with the motion of the ejecting blade at the Runner's midsection. A pause, and she realized her swing followed through. But to her surprise, the man had lept forward, away from the swing, and in the process turned to face Nakie while holding himself against the wall.

With a smile and a smooth, rich Italian voice he plainly stated:

"You, my lady, are very, very quick."

_**~Let us take siesta, and come back to a different story, **_**_cabrón_**_**!**_


	3. Episode 2

_**EPISODE 2 - To kill a fly with dynamite**_

Grey clouds covered the afternoon sky outside the London Quarantine zone. The street is full of taxi, buses, and personal vehicles. Older cars from the '60s mostly. The automated buses filled to capacity, and the jet black taxis, still modeled after the ones from the 1930's, all occupied. Average Joes and normal Nancys in low-end corporate attire as far as the eye can see. One man ashes a cigarette out of his auto's window, while another chats away on his Commlink. These are the middle-class of the industrious workforce that still inhabit the southern side of the river. They are corporate pawns, but in a different sense then the office drones in other urban metroplex. These are blue-collar folk; more true to life and less concerned about formalities and status. The factory work and industrial operations impart a certain type of mundane attitude and state of mind.

But that didn't make Eightball respect the Wageslaves any more.

In London, the shadow business was booming to the few able to perform it's duties. The amount of work available was far less then other up-and-coming corporate centers like Boston, Venizia, Constantinople, or the Twin Cities, but the shadow warrior community is so small, that even someone without a specialization or trade skill can find work weekly. That's what kept Eightball employed. Just being a Go-ganger turned shadow soldier was enough; running security, driving getaway cars, and sometimes icing a few private security goons. Eightball sat in the back of a taxi, wearing a black pleather jacket and urban camo BDU pants, his black side swept hair emphasises the only color on his body: gold studs on his lips, nose, and ears, with several gold chains dawned around his neck, and a black and blue striped shirt under his jacket. He cycleing through news stories on his comm, which had its bluetooth plugged directly into his datajack behind his left ear, for augmented reality. Several windows cycling through his vision, his own music playing, with some texts from several female avatars blinking in his peripheral. The taxi man was yelling through a commlink of his own. Neither of them saw him coming...

A man with a light blue 3-piece suit sharper then anyone else in this commute strides a crossed the sidewalk and into the parking lane, stepping through a shallow puddle left from the early summer shower. His ash-blonde hair well trimmed and kept in a short pony tail, accentuating the three glowing blue orbs in each of his pupils. His custom shoes clicking across the tarmac as he swiftly walks through the street-turned-rush-hour parking lot. He walks casually behind the Taxi carrying Eightball and approaches the rear passenger window. His right jacket sleeve is rolled up to the elbow, exposing a metallic prosthetic arm, a high grade augmentation too, as it has aesthetic curves and appears to be dense- perhaps even a bit heavy.

He raises his metal hand and gives the window three taps. Eightball's eyes widen, looking alarmed and highly irritated. The window rolls down.

"Excuse me, I've got a few questions for you." the suited man said with neutrality in his voice, his french accent very light.

"Get outta here, fraggin' salariman! I ain't splittin' no taxi cab with ya!" Eightball spit with a contrastingly thick English accent. The taxi driver stopped talking and looked over his shoulder at the exchange.

"Eightball, if you'll have your taxi pull over to the parking zone, please, it's rather important." the suit reiterated with a more cold tone.

Eightball's eyes widen and his face turned red with irritation. He opened his jacket enough to flash the handle and chamber of a Cavalier Deputy revolver fit snugly in a magnetic shoulder holster. Nodding to the Taxi's camera and snarling at the Suit before him he barked:

"This ain't the place for this type of work Johnson, and I don't know how you know me name, but you best GTFO before I decide your drek is worth one of these custom bullets, scan?" nodding back at his piece snugly nestled in his holster.

"Sorry about this, driver." The corporate chic took a step back and walked back around the taxi, disappearing from sight.

After a long moment the Taximan turned around to look at Eightball, "Work catching up to you, chummer?"

"I don't know what that smelly frenchfag was thinking! Just get me home, eh?" Eightball replied, still flustered.

The taxi only pulled forward one car space and they were parked again, when suddenly the dashboard display read: "GRIDLINK OFFLINE." A moment of question went through the drivers eyes when suddenly several successive, earth rumbling stomps roared up to the auto before a massive crash. The two inhabitants of the car yelled as they were flung to the side of the vehicle as it was carelessly shoved into the meter zone along the sidewalk. Looking out the window, the Ganger's sight was met with a massive being in a military-grade hard suit. Dim lights, tow hooks, and hazard signs filled the picture as the massive plate of armor took two steps and was again at the vehicle it just pushed to the curb. Still screaming, Eightball crawled to the opposite side of the vehicle, while the driver tried to open his door frantically, but it was no use, as the door was jammed from the damage. The door behind Eightball swung open, and before he could fall backwards out of the cab, the cold metal hand of the suited man grabbed his collar and tossed him to the street side of the auto with the tank-man looming outside. Eightball instinctively reached for his piece, but the corporate killer reached out and grabbed the chamber of the weapon with his metal hand before the gangster could align the barrel with any part of his assailant. The gun was raised to the roof of the cab, and then with both parties clinging on to it, the suit crushed the chamber, just as the ambushed shadowrunner squeezed the trigger. Three clicks with no gunshot before Eightball realized what had happened. with an arm holding onto the destroyed gun, Eightball's side remained exposed and the assaulting man exploited this opening by punching with his free hand into the gangsters ribs repeatedly before he could recoil.

"WHAT THE FUCK, YOU CORP SHIT?! STOP!" Eightball yelled frantically. He couldn't believe he was being assaulted by corporate hitmen in the middle of a crowded street in broad daylight.

"What do you want from me?" he continued.

"I 'ave questions, Eightball, and I'll start breaking ribs if you do not talk, NOW!" the suit obviously had the upper hand, and the look of a professional gazed at the shadow warrior through unemotional cybernetic eyes.

"You salariman, Johnson, corporate pawn shit, what is it?" Eightball was dazed and furious.

"Diea and Stinger, you were working with them on a job recently," a moment of pause and Eightball involuntary flinched at the beginning of his next sentence, "I've not been able to locate them since, and all their contacts can't find them. WHY?"

The taxi driver composed himself during the seconds that the conversation took and started dialing his commlink, "You criminals get out of my taxi, now! I am calling Centurion!-" He was cut off, however by a crash as the driver side window was shattered by a armored hand reaching in and grabbing him by the arm, pulled out of the windows husk the driver was meet with a gun-metal colored orb of a helmet with three red glowing eyes. This third assailant looked like what one could only describe as a super street samurai. He's human in size and shape, that is to say, significantly smaller then the being in the hard-suit that initially accosted the cab.

"You're not calling anyone, I disabled your vehicle's uplink and your commlink wont find a node to connect to until we're finished," a Italian playboys' rich voice sang through the helmet. The voice was anything but disarming, however, as the helmet carried the words through a microphone, giving them a robotic and inhuman sound.

"So ka," the words barely escaped the drivers lips.

"Aw shit, who are you guys?" Eightball realized six times over that he was amongst people with deep connections and even deeper pockets.

A light slap on the face from the french suit and Eightball made eye contact again, "Concentrate, Omae." he told the ganger.

"Ok! I killed 'em both! I don't know why neither!" the shadowrunner looked weary, as he knew his options were limited, "it was all so fragged up, okay?!"

"ou?" the french accent butchering the word, "how."

"I-I nuked Diea while she was jacked in, and I g-g-geeked Stinger hard and dumped the lot of 'em in the the stream!" The hardened killer looked almost scared, either from realizing the whole situation, or the immediate threat of the unknown team of killers.

"Are you going into details, Mr. Eightball? Or should I start working on the ribs on your other side?"

Stuttering he spit out: "M-my fixer, Stephan, got me the gig, I'm s-sure you already met him.. I met t-those two as planned, and the decker stayed in the car with me w-while I dropped off Stinger at the address. I never knew anything other then to open this personal secretary the Johnson had for the job. Steph told me to open it at 3 am. He said it looked like it had a programmed attack virus to erase file that we was there. Shortly after I open'd the file though, Diea got hit with what I thought was some corporate black hammer and she flat-lined," He looked around in a quick panic before continuing,

"I panicked and called Stinger on me comm, but I got a call right then from Stephan! He told me Stinger botched the job and that's why Diea bit it. And to cover his tracks Stinger was gonna geek me if I didn't catch him first. But Stinger got in right as we finished the call. We got an alarm raised, so I sped off to the docks down off a Cotten Row Wharf. We got out to dump Diea's meat, an Stinger said he had somthin' to tell me that was super important I figured it was cuz' he was gonna ice me, so I blasted him in the chest! He just stood there tho, askin' 'why!' I told him I didn't know! An he died there. And I haven't seen Steph since! I was set the frag up, I says..."

Eightball trailed off, looking sincerely confused. The suit nodded and crawled out of the rear seat, backing up to the sidewalk and lighting up a cigarette. The other two backed off of the battered taxi as well. Stepping around to the sidewalk to meet his boss, the street samurai's helmet lifted in segments, revealing a well groomed and somewhat tall Italian man. He was decked out in a full body suit with a high-end military spec-ops combat vest with hard points on his joints, and a large armored collar. He wore a straight, jet black sword on his back and a obvious flip sword attached to the armor on his forearm. A rather large pistol also hung from a holster on the right breast of his armor. They exchanged words for a moment and looked at the cab a couple times. The gangster started looking for a opportunity to escape. He waved his hands to passing vehicles and tried to open the window, but the massive bipedal creature in the hard suit bent over and shoved its armored pod of a body into the view. Perhaps it was looking at him. Without a distinctive head or sensor it was hard to tell.

"Well, Adrian, I think it's clear now, that run I was scoping was one of these glitched missions. But without finding any of these fixers we're still dead in the water." he looked off, in a somewhat deep thought.

"Oui, I think that Stinger was going to tell Eightball that the mission was a scratch. No doubt that he was probably also told to kill his partner. Too bad he figured this all out for himself too late. Ah! Je ne comprends pas..." Adrian trailed off and looked back at the ganger, transfixed by the Ogre in the hard-suit. "Sergi, what do you want to do with him?"

Both of their gaze turned to Eightball. The taxi driver was crawling out of the front passenger side window. Several onlookers were nearby, taking photos and perhaps calling the security company. Sergio activated his battlebuddy comm and ordered: "Sonya, our contact may need future questioning, if you would '24' him, please?"

"done." the single word came through the teams comm from an unknown source.

A moment later and Eightball's bluetooth in his neck fried and his commlink on his belt shot an electric arc out, his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell limp, drooling slightly. The Ogre in the power armor broke off the door and snatched up their victim, several gasps and screams came from the collection of onlookers, but the mass of armor payed no mind to them, as he cradled Eightball and accompanied Sergio on the sidewalk. Adrian approached the taxi cab driver as he fell out of his window.

"My apologize again, sir." he said as he casually tossed the man a Certified Cred stick.

Fumbling to catch the small chip the shocked cab driver dove to secure his grasp and upon sitting up he pressed the "BAL" button, displaying a total of 2400 Nuyen. He cabbie looked up, only to see the onlookers peering around the corner into a adjacent alleyway. The whole group was gone.

_**~until next time, chummer.**_


End file.
